


Red Black and Blue

by Jodygoroar



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Avengers Tower, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, F/M, First Date, First Time, Friendship, Heavy Angst, Natasha Feels, OTP Feels, Oral Sex, Plot, Romance, Romanorogers, Smut, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve and natasha - Freeform, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, progessing relationship, turning into love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-04-29 09:53:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5123270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jodygoroar/pseuds/Jodygoroar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set beginning at the end of Captain America The Winter Soldier. Totally should be complete canon. This is my OTP for sure.</p><p>Steve finally gets up the courage to ask Natasha out on a date, it goes very well, despite completely missing dinner. Over the next few weeks their relationship progresses and they finally admit their feelings for each other to themselves. Things get hot and heavy in the first chapter and remain that way most of the way through this piece.<br/>Thanks for reading, comments feed my soul.</p><p>The title is a hybrid of their colors; red and black for Natasha, red white and blue for Steve. Thanks for reading, comments are amazing!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dinner and Dancing or Just Dancing

She was beautiful. He'd always known it but had seen her as a soldier first. She was the best super spy in the business and somewhere along the line he'd begun to call her friend as well, but that was where it had ended until their lives were in danger and her assassin skills led to one lingeringly sweet kiss on the escalator.

They'd managed to escape immediate danger and found relative safety at Sam Wilson's house. While Steve had retired to the bathroom to clean the battle from his hands Natasha had stayed in the bedroom. He opened the door quietly and stepped into the room just in time to catch a glimpse of creamy skin as she pulled a fresh shirt over her head. Suddenly his fingers itched to glide across the smooth expanse until he came to the raised edges of the scar he knew was from a single Soviet bullet.

“ _Bye bye bikinis_ ,” Nat's voice rang in his mind and an image of her clad in the incredibly small scraps of clothing that pass for swim suits now a days came unbidden to his mind. Steve took a steadying breath and cleared his throat.

Shoving inappropriate thoughts away Steve got down to business. He and Natasha had plans to make. He found it difficult to concentrate fully and was thankful when Sam popped his head in the door, “I made breakfast, if you guys eat that sort of thing.”

Somehow Steve managed to suppress all thoughts of Natasha, her glorious skin, her beautiful and insightful eyes, that quick wit... Granted discovering that HYDRA has secretly invaded S.H.I.E.L.D. And attempted a full take over certainly kept him occupied. Captain America had a mission and the mission _always_ came first.

Once or twice he had a moment of quiet when curious images and feelings invaded his stream of statistics, tactics, and logistics, creating and increasingly uncomfortable tightness in his pants. Quickly he would shove the thoughts aside for later inspection.

The next time Steve was conjuring an image of Natasha he was falling from the Hellicarrier, a bullet in his chest, and his face smashed in by the friend who'd been lost to him in more ways than one.

It was Nat's teasing smile he saw when he struck the water, sinking below the murky depths. The next thing he knew there she was, standing over him with worry in her eyes and gentle hands searching his body for broken bones.

Roaming fingers poked and prodded, finding bruised muscles, and sending shivers up his spine. Grunting when she found a particularly tender spot, Steve slanted his eyes at her, glaring. “Stop that, a little bullet extraction and I'll be right as rain.”

He was pleased to hear Natasha laugh and see her expression relax a bit before he closed his eyes and let the medical team do their job.

 

It was a few days before he saw her again, at the cemetery where where Nick Fury could now be found. She was gorgeous in the sunlight and reminded him of all the things he'd lost since 1945; all the... time.

Natasha was saying goodbye, she leaned in, kissed him gently on the cheek. Before he realized his intentions one hand seized her upper arm, stilling her as she had begun to turn away. He took a deep breath; it was now or never.

“Natasha, would you... Would you like to have dinner with me?”

To his pleasant surprise, a small smile crossed her face and she simply said, “yes.”

Before Steve could even process her answer Natasha smiled brightly and walked away, leaving him standing confused and elated in the sunlit cemetery.

“Nicely done, Cap,” Sam clapped Steve on the shoulder with a nod of approval and led him away for a victory round of drinks.

 

Two nights later Steve Rogers. Heroic protector f the American dream, was having a serious dilemma: what did the modern scientifically engineered super soldier wear on a first date? Despite his assurances to the contrary, and Natasha's varied attempts to procure a date for him, Steve had had no practice since coming back to life in a top secret S.H.I.E.L.D facility a few years back.

After some friendly taunting from Sam, two changes of pants, and three different shirt and jacket combinations, he finally settled on dark wash jeans, a simple white shirt, and his leather jacket. Classic yet modern.

With a final, “good luck,” from Sam, Steve hopped onto his motorcycle and sped off to pick up his date. It was only as he pulled up in front of her current apartment that he realized he probably should have borrowed a real car from somebody.

Thankfully Natasha was an intelligent and intuitive woman, who clearly knew Steve better than he thought. When she stepped out the front door he could tell by the pointed look at the bike that she had dressed accordingly and was quite pleased with herself. She was beautiful and sexy in an elegant red pant suit and black blouse. The sleek lines of the outfit defined her body in the best way; accentuating her long legs, curvy hips, and narrow waist. One might think the red would clash with her auburn hair, but she had pulled it up and to the side, securing the mass in a way that drew attention to her striking eyes.

She smirked at him and Steve realized he was staring, his mouth hanging open just a bit. He cleared his throat and stood from the motorcycle.  
“Hey, Rogers,” Natasha smiled and his heart sped up.

He stepped onto the sidewalk to meet her. “Good evening, Natasha,” he replied.

“I was hoping you'd bring the bike for our date,” she said, surprising him.

“Well, I'm here to please. Shall we?” Steve climbed back onto the bike and offered his hand to Nat.

She placed her fingers into his large hand and hew was sure she felt the same electricity that shot up his own arm. Natasha swung a toned leg across the motorcycle and snuggled up close behind Steve, wrapping her arms around his waist. She placed her chin on his shoulder and spoke softly into his ear, “what's the mission tonight, Captain America?”

“Dinner,” he said, “and dancing. If you're up for it.”

Steve could feel, more than see, the grin that spread over her face, “I'm up for anything you have planned.”

Now he was grinning like a fool, “I'd tell you to hold on tight, but you already are.”

Steve opened the throttle and sped off down the busy streets of New York. Natasha held tight to his middle as they turned corners and sped through yellow lights; his excitement must be getting the better of his. Surely he imaged her fingers skimming across his side, beneath the leather of his jacket.

He'd sought out the assistance of Agent Hill for a destination this evening. Maria had quickly recommended a small place that was tucked away on a side avenue in Little Italy.

As they drove up at the curb delicious smells welcomed them.

“Mmm, smells great,” Natasha said when Steve killed the engine. She squeezed him once more before letting go and stepping to the curb.

Steve stepped up next to her, offering an arm instinctively. She smiled at the old fashioned gesture and took his arm as they walked into the little restaurant side by side.  
It was a quaint spot with about a half dozen tables and a short bar at the back with four stools. Steve had asked Hill if he needed to make a reservation, she'd been right; there was no need. Only two tables were taken by couples and one bar stood occupied by an older gentleman nursing his drink.

A pretty blond dressed in black greeted them, “Good evening, two? Right this way. She led them to a table near the window, handed them each a menu, lit the votive candles and said, “my name is Jessica, would you like a moment to look over the menu?”

Natasha rapidly rambled off her choice of veal Parmesan before looking to him. “I'll have the same,” he told the waitress without looking away from Nat.

“Very good, would you like me to select a wine to go with your meal?” she asked.

“We'll have the Chardonnay,” Natasha pointed to the wine list, maintaining the eye contact Steve was thoroughly enjoying. She closed the wine list and handed it the the waitress with a sly wink for him, “thanks.”

They sat in comfortable silence a moment, simply looking at each other. He suspected she was sizing him up, studying him like one of her mission targets. Deciding on the best plan of attack. Steve took the opportunity to stare at her. She was beautiful and sexy, just a hint of dark make up to accentuate her eyes, and a tinge of red colored her full lips. Just as the thought of those red lips gasping in ecstasy filled him mind she pulled the lower between her teeth, forcing his eyes up to hers. Her eyes were wide and stared into his soul, she felt it, too. The connection, the fire, the force telling him to throw the table out of the way and grab her before she could disappear.

She blinked and cleared her throat, but didn't look away, “I'm glad you asked me to dinner. After trying so unsuccessfully to find you a date I was considering looking in a different direction entirely.”

“I'm not gay, if that's what you mean,” he smirked.

“I had hoped not,” Natasha said with a suggestive tilt of her head, exposing smooth skin and just a hint of clavicle. “But mostly I wondered...”

“What?” he asked, unsure what else she might mean.

“Well... How much practice have you had since 1945? You never told me...” she looked at him with such honest curiosity, biting down again on that full lip of hers.

Steve was suddenly and painfully aware of the fact that it'd been more than a few decades since the last time he was with a woman. Despite popular opinion he was not a virgin. He had traveled most of the United States with many beautiful chorus girls who had been rather _friendly_. He'd looked at it as research and practice for when the war was over and he could finally take Peggy for that dance. But between fighting the Red Skull, and crashing a plane into the frozen North Atlantic he and Peggy had never had the chance. And since his time as a Capsicle, as Tony so fondly called him, there just hasn't been anyone who'd caught his interest enough. Until Natasha had wrapped her strong fingers around his neck and stolen a kiss to save their lives.

“Honestly?” she nodded, he took a deep breath and told her, “there's been no one since then, except that kiss with you. But I'm not a virgin, and everybody likes to think.”

She laughed, a bright joyful sound, her whole face glowed with the expression and he longed to make her feel that every day he was possibly allowed to.

“It's been a while for me as well, she said, just a hint of pink coloring her face.

Just then, Jessica returned with a basket of bread and a bottle of wine. She made a show of presenting the label to Natasha and Steve. Then proceeded to ruin the illusion by fumbling with the cork. Meanwhile Steve could feel the gentle pressure of a bare foot sliding up the inside of his left leg. The feeling sent a tingling straight to his groin, forcing him to shift in his seat which resulted in a smug smile spreading across Natasha's face.

Finally Jessica managed to get the bottle open and began to pour them each a glass. Nat stopped her with a wave, murmured a thank you and said, “I think we'd like to take our order to go, please,” all the while keeping her eyes on his face, and her toes exploring their way up to the bulge in his jeans. Natasha looked to him for consent, but the most coherent response Steve could conjure was to nod dumbly, clear his throat, and shift again in his seat, which only caused her slender foot to press more firmly against his erection. She could practically hear his eyes rolling in his head.

“Yes, to go, please. We'll take the wine as well,” Natasha directed the waitress, requesting extra cheese on the side and some more bread be packed, “and wrap it tightly, it's gonna be a bumpy ride.”

Steve nearly came right then with her foot stroking his length through the incredibly uncomfortable jeans, and a sultry look in her eyes that promised a night he would not soon forget.

He softly pried her foot away with both hands, pressing his thumbs firmly into the arch. Now it was Natasha who shifted in her seat. Steve rubbed the tendons and her foot and ankle, arousing her in a way she had not known before.

Jessica returned shortly with a large bundle in her arms. She rambled off the list of contents, seeking approval from Natasha, before attempting to hand the large parcel to Steve. He took it gratefully, holding it in front of his straining pants. Driving the motorcycle would be uncomfortable at best, torture at worst.

Clearly Natasha had already considered this because as they walked up to the bike she said, “my turn to drive. Your turn to hold on tight.” She winked, and climbed aboard, patting the seat behind her.

For a second Natasha was convinced he was going to refuse to let her drive the antique motorcycle, which she was sure Howard Stark has stashed away fro him in some warehouse. Finally to her complete elation, he nodded and climbed on behind her, gripping the edge of the seat with one hand and the parcel of food in the other. He slid up just barely making contact, as she had anticipated. She pressed back against him, grinding her firm ass into his groin. He rewarded her by involuntarily thrusting against her backside and groaning. Natasha made a point of leaning further forward over the handlebars, pressing into the hard ridge in his pants. She could feel the heat of his body pressed close behind her through the few layers of clothing between them.

Steve was either completely delirious with arousal or Natasha had broken every speed limit and ran every red light because they were back at her front door in moments. She slammed the bike expertly into a space and stood giving him an excellent view of her ass. She swung a leg gracefully over the bike and stepped to the curb.

Natasha looked over her shoulder at the sexy hunk of man on the motorcycle. “You coming?” she asked.  
He mumbled something under his breath that sounded like, “not yet,” and followed her as she made a point of adding an extra bit of sway to her hips as she walked to the front door.

She turned the key and opened the door. “What did you say?” she began to ask but her words were abruptly cut off.

Steve slammed his lips across hers. He dropped the food on the floor, kicked the door closed, and pressed her against it, leaning his body into hers.

Natasha pressed right back, seeking friction where heat had been settling since she caught him staring at her mouth. The second Nat had noticed Steve's eye dilate, she'd had to restrain herself from flipping across the table into his lap.

Finally she had her hands on him, sliding up into his hair, tugging gently on the short locks. He moaned and she stored the data away from later use.

Steve wrapped her large hands around her tiny waist, pushing up under the silk blouse, he found the rough edge of a bullet scar, the image of Nat in a bikini springing back into is mind.

Natasha pushed suddenly against his chest but followed him, not breaking the kiss. In fact she pushed him back and pulled his mouth in at the same time. She slid her hands under the collar of his leather jacket and pushed it off his shoulders. He discarded the item on some piece of furniture and slid his own hands under the collar of her jacket.

He discovered more silky skin where the blouse stopped and shoulder began.

Natasha attempted to guide them towards the hall and her bedroom but they managed to end up in the kitchen instead.

She pressed him into the wall next to the fridge and stepped back. They stared at each other, gasping for breath, heat in their gazes and fire in their veins.

“What do you say, Cap?” Natasha asked with a purr in her voice, slipping her blouse from her shoulders, revealing a lacy red bra and sending another jolt of heat directly to his throbbing erection.

Completely dumbfounded and with a brain deprived of blood the only thing he could think to say was, “God bless America.”

Nat's burst of laughter was swallowed when Steve covered her mouth with his, one hand gripping her upper thigh, the other on her ass. In sync, as usual, she jumped just as he began to lift her, and wrapped her legs around his waist.

Steve took two steps forward and deposited her on the counter, releasing her sweet body only long enough to rip the shirt over his head.

She undid the clasp on her pants and lifted herself off the counter slightly, cocking an eyebrow at Steve, silently asking for assistance. He complied instantly. His hands on her hips burned through the fabric as he slid the garment down over her ass and thighs, leaving a trail of cinders behind them. He tossed it over his shoulder and stepped back into the circle of her legs, seeking out her mouth again.

He gripped her thigh with one hand, hitching Natasha's knee over his hip, and flattened his other arm along the length of her spine, pressing her into his body securely. She scooted forward on the counter top, nearly toppling off the edge. Steve ground is hips into her, causing their lips to break apart, they gasped for air.

“I guess you were right,” she said, her voice husky and filled with passion, a deep rosy color spreading across her cheeks and down her slender neck.

“Right about what?” he asked, trailing a single finger across her cheek, down her throat, towards the lacy edge of her bra, tracing the line of her sternum. The shiver that ran across her skin, following in the wake of his touch sent another rush of heat down his spine and to his cock.

“You don't need practice.”

A surge of testosterone fueled pride sent his mouth crashing back to hers, he wrapped his arms under her ass and lifted her from the counter. Natasha anchored her knees around his waist.

“Down the hall... last door... on the left,” she directed him between searing kisses. All the while grinding herself against him, soaking her red lace panties.

Steve stumbled blindly in the direction she'd indicated, finding a partially open door at the end. He pushed into the door and Natasha reached behind him to flip a light switch.

The room was simple: a dresser, a desk and a huge bed centered against the far wall. It seemed the only personal touch Nat had added to the room was the black satin sheets with a twisting design woven around the edges in red silk thread.

He couldn't fight a small smile at the sight of the sheets which reminded him so perfectly of a spider's web. His attention was quickly returned to the Black Widow herself and she released her knees from his hips and slid down the length of his body. Her nimble fingers traced the skin along the waistband of his pants. She located the top button and popped it free from its hole, and slowly lowered the zipper staring at him from under her lashes.

Now it was his turn to be burned as she tugged his jeans and boxer briefs own. His erection jumped free and he moaned. Natasha knelt before him, the tip of her tongue peaking from between her red lips to lick the bead of wetness from the head of his cock.

Natasha gripped his ass with one hand and cupped his at the base with the other and then she took him into her hot mouth. She was an expert in this as she was in most everything she was determined to do. Nat adjusted her hand to cup his balls and pulled him in deep, he felt himself touch the back of her throat. She stroked her wet tongue along the underside of his length. Steve nearly lost control.

He groaned, “Natasha.” She looked up at him again, her mouth filled with his throbbing erection. He pulled his hips back and with a pop freed himself from her talented mouth. “I want to taste you,” he said, surprising them both.

She stood and he began backing her towards the bed, he reached around her to the clasp of that red lace contraption and attempted to open the garment. He fumbled a moment but he was determined. Success was inevitable and the reward was great.

The bed took Natasha's knees out from under her just as he freed the clasp. As she fell back on the satin sheets Steve hooked a finger into one strap and gravity did the rest.

She was beautiful, her skin milky white with a hint of flushed pink across her breasts and inner thighs. She smiled with lips swollen from his kisses, and hers.

As he stared Natasha felt a shiver run over her skin and down her spine, her nipples hardening under his watchful gaze.

He dove on her like a drowning man breaking the surface. Steve caught her wrists and brought her hands above her head. He kissed his way under her jaw and to the pulse drumming at the base of her throat, pressing his tongue into the hollow spot. He traced a line of damp fire down her breast catching a tight bud between his teeth. Natasha gasped, arching off the bed, urging him on. He shifted both her hands into his left, keeping her stretched out beneath him. With his right he skimmed the edge of lace that was the only fabric left between them. He decided to have a bit of fun before crossing that line. Steve pressed her legs farther apart with his knees and hovered over her sex with his fingers. Natasha groaned and rotated her hips, seeking his touch, pressure, friction. Anything. Everything.

“Please, Steve, please,” she begged.

“Since you asked so nicely...” he reached under the edge of lace and dipped a finger into her wet folds, grazing her clit, making her cry out in equal amounts satisfaction and frustration. To her complete dismay, his delightful fingers were gone just as quickly as they had touched her. Steve was pulling the scrap of red from her now, feasting on each bit of new flesh with hungry eyes.

Suddenly, Captain America was nervous. He'd never actually done this before, but after some rather informative time on the internet he understood the theory well enough that he wanted to try it. The idea of tasting a woman in that most intimate of places never failed to get him rock hard. The fact that it was Natasha spread before him, panting and wanting, urging him on with a single look, cemented his confidence.

He kissed his way up the sensitive skin of her inner thigh, watching her face. Steve lowered his head and licked up her slit and circled around the sensitive bud above. He was pleased to hear her moan in ecstasy, she jutted her hips up and towards his face.

He tasted her up and down, twirling his tongue around, finding the motion that made her scream, then he inserted a finger into her slit, curving his hand up and groped her inner walls. He began swirling his tongue the other direction, pumping his hand faster, feeling her begin to shake beneath him. Adding another finger to the first Steve lapped at her center, driving her to the edge. Then he sucked her sensitive clit into his mouth and she was lost to the abyss, crying out his name and clamping her thighs around his broad shoulders.

Steve smiled and moved above Natasha coming to eye level, her legs hugging him the whole way.

She smiled dazedly back at him, “well you certainly don't need practice at _that_.”

Steve chuckled and settled himself against her hips, pressing his throbbing erection against her sex. She was so hot and he wanted her so badly it was painful.

Natasha saw the need clear in his eyes. She gripped him with her hips and wrapped her hands around his shoulders, flipping him in one swift movement.

She hovered over his hips bracing her hands on his well defined abs. Steve took his cock in hand and helped guide it into her slick entrance. Nat sank slowly down, sheathing him completely within her heat.

“Finally,” they groaned in unison.

Quickly they established a slow and torturous rhythm. Natasha bounced gracefully above him. He cupped her ass, lifting her and letting go so she dropped down, impaling herself on his member over and over.

Steve sat up enough to catch a tight nipple between his teeth. Natasha groaned, her head fell back, pushing her breast further into his mouth. His hands were all over her body searching for... he didn't know what. He found the rough edges of scars, some he knew the story of, most he didn't.

And suddenly it wasn't enough. Steve scooped her up and stood, laying her on the foot of the bed. It was too low, but he didn't care. Bending his knees he filled her again, caressing her breasts and pinching the tips between his first and second fingers.

She crossed her ankles behind his ass and drove him on, pushing them both towards the abyss. The room was a cacophony of heavy breathing, her cries, his groans, and the sound of flesh against flesh.

Steve replaced is right hand with his mouth and put those fingers to better use. He reached down between them and found her clit with his thumb, teasing at first, then pressing a bit harder and rubbing quick tight circles over the bundle of nerves.

“Yes. Yes, don't stop. Don't stop!” Natasha cried out and he pressed his thumb harder, drove deeper into her welcoming pussy.

He gloried in the passion clear on her face as she came and her inner walls clenched around him, sending him over the edge right behind her, “oh, Natasha.”

Steve hovered there a moment, basking in the hum of their lovemaking. Finally he pulled out and did his best to not notice the slight frown that creases her fair brow at the loss of contact and heat. He collapsed on the bed beside her and sighed contentedly.

Natasha snuggled into his warm chest and he wrapped his arms around her.

“Mmm,” she sighed.

The response she gets is a loud grumble from his stomach, causing them both to burst into laughter.

“Well we sort of skipped dinner,” Steve joked, “went straight to dancing.”

“Dancing was too tempting to wait for,” she smiled p at him, brilliantly sated and beginning to feel the hunger for food as well.

“I suppose I'll ask again. Natasha, would you like to have dinner with me?”

And for the second time, to his great pleasure, she simply said, “yes.”


	2. Early Morning Messenger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha shows up at Steve's and discovers his habit of sketching her...and sexy times ensue. Comments are still amazing! Thanks for reading!

He'd been doing it longer than he cared to admit to himself. Whether he tried to stop or not it simply continued as if he had no control of his own hand. It was such a natural state, letting his fingers glide around the curves and edges. A little here, a _lot_ there. It was practically erotic.

His pencil had stopped dead on the page at that thought. Steve Rogers had been sketching since he and Bucky had played in the school yard. While Bucky was picked first for sports teams, Steve would pick his favorite spot on the bleachers and pull out paper and pencil.

Any tiny scrap of cardboard, newspaper corner, or homework assignment would do. More than once he'd been scolded for doodles on his arithmetic pages. When he'd come out of the ice more than half a century had passed and much had changed, including the amount of paper available to him. His sketching habit took on a life of its own after that.

Steve paused now and looked more closely at the notebook before him. He found himself not very surprised to have a pair of mysterious long lashed eyes staring back at him from the page. Flipping through the book quickly he found the pages were filled with eyes, lips, fingers, legs... Every part of her that intrigued him, so basically every part of her.

 _Natasha_. Even her name sent a tingle down his spine. Steve landed on one sketch he particularly enjoyed. It was that look that started it all. That moment he had been entirely unable to shake.

A look and a question, "are you still uncomfortable?"

"That's not exactly the word I would use," he spoke aloud to his empty kitchen. Looking again at the drawing before him, he thought back to last night.

Natasha; she was so sexy, so confident, so _skilled_. He could feel her hands on his back, his jeans became tight, straining against his growing erection. Blindly his hand found its way to his hardened length, palming himself through the fabric. The sharp buzz of his phone shattered the alluring thought of Nat spread naked and inviting in the sunlight across his counter top. Sam had a lead, this would have to wait.

Steve shoved images of Nat from his mind and rushed out the door, keys in hand. In his haste he slammed the door, the breeze flipping the pages of his notebook forgotten on the counter.

\---

It was another two days before Steve came back into that kitchen. The lead Sam found turned out to be a dead end, literally. They found the guy beaten to death in an alley for the money in his wallet, or at least that is what the killer wanted you to think.

Angry and frustrated they hit the nearest bar and Cap watched Sam drink himself to sleep. Steve made friends with Susan, the elderly bartender, who allowed Sam to sleep it off on her couch.

Steve dropped his keys on the counter, barely noticing the open page and the drawing upon it. The hour was late and all he could see was his bed. He stripped down to his boxers as he stumbled to his room. Not even bothering to think another thought Steve fell into his blankets and was asleep in seconds.

\---

Morning came far too soon with a pounding in his head.

No, that pounding was on the door, "Steve!" and he knew that yell.

 _Natasha. Why is the Black Widow beating on my front door at this ungodly hour of_ , he checked the clock, "9:37?"

"Steve open the door, I know you're home." She slammed her fist into the wood three more times before he opened it.

She brushed past him, much closer than the doorway required. He felt the contact through his entire body and was suddenly grateful to his forethought of pulling jeans on before leaving his room. It amazed him how easily she affected him.

Natasha turned to look at him just far enough inside the doorway for him to close it, "I talked to Sam," she began, pulling off her leather jacket, "He told me what you found."

He stepped forward and inhaled her scent. He was rewarded with a look of pure ecstasy in her eyes and a catch in her breathing. Steve won the sexual tension stand off and Nat backed away until she bumped into the counter. He followed her into the kitchen, walking around the island to stand facing her. The counter, and long forgotten notebook, lay between them.

Natasha found herself staring uncontrollably at his mouth; those lips, she knew their taste, their skill. A tendril of heat skidded down her spine and added fog to her already arousal clouded mind.

 _Why did I come over here?_ All she could think of now were those lips. She forced her gaze down, which only made matters worse.

 _Abs_. Such toned abs. And he had neglected to button his jeans, they hung low on his hips, showing her a lovely expanse of skin and noticeable bulge pressing against the zipper.

Natasha took a deep breath, closed her eyes and aimed her gaze at her hands on the cool counter top in front of her. Surely her hands were the only safe place to look in this entire apartment.

_Wrong!_

Inches from her closely manicure nails was an incredibly erotic sketch of a woman with long legs, shapely hips, a narrow waist, and a scar from a single Soviet bullet on her lower stomach.

Steve noticed what she was staring at and tried to close the book, uncertainty on his face.

"Wait," she said, smiling at him with heat and admiration in her eyes. "You drew me like one of your French girls?" and huge grins lit both their faces.

Nat turned back to the notebook, flipping pages, touching the masterful drawings, and silently taking note of the dates marking each one. Steve came around the island and placed his hands on either side of her. He caged her in without touching her at all.

He craned his neck down and again breathed in the heady scent of Natasha. It wasn't a scent you could put any other name to. The best spies left no presence that could be traced, including the smell of perfume. It was simply the delicious smell of Nat herself.

Steve nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck marring the delicate skin with his three-day-mission beard. The sensation caused a wave of desire to flood Natasha's every cell. She leaned back against him and firmly pressed her ass into his groin. He released his grasp on the counter's edge and gripped her waist instead, she rotated her hips and arched her back in response. A path of flames followed his grasp as he felt his way down her sides to cup her ass in his hands. Natasha moaned and threw her head back allowing him better access to the tender skin of her throat.

Regretfully Steve relinquished her backside and took hold of the hem of her cotton shirt and pulled it up over her head. Nat shivered at the sudden cold air in contrast to the burning touch of Steve's fingers dipping into the waistband of her jeans. His lips trailed a path of wet kisses across her shoulder and down her spine, as he knelt and peeled the denim from her exquisite curves. She kicked off her boots and stepped out of the pile of fabric at her feet just in time for him to grab her ass tight again.

The sound that came from her throat when he pressed his face into her and licked her through the black satin was barely human and sent a wave of heat through him. He was rock hard and rubbing painfully on the seam of his jeans. Steve stood and slipped one hand into the front of his pants and the other into the front of hers.

Steve pulled himself free from the fabric prison and groaned to find how wet Natasha was for him.

Natasha groaned at the teasingly gentle glide of Steve's long middle finger through her slick folds.

He was consuming her from all edges. Nipping at the shell of her ear, he dipped his large hands into the cups of her bra and gently twisted her nipples between his fingers and thumbs. All the while thrusting between her thighs, sliding his length along the black satin wet from her desire.

Both their breathing grew increasingly erratic and Natasha moaned. He bit down ever so softly on the sensitive skin just below her left ear at the same time squeezing her right breast, tweaking the tip.

Natasha moaned louder.

"Mm, do you like that?" Steve asked boldly.

"Yes," she turned her head, took his chin in her hand, and said, "but I also like it when you fuck me."

Steve growled in response, his body twitching against her swollen flesh, and roughly pulled her panties out of the way. He gripped her hips on either side and touched the head of his dick to her entrance.

Stopping a moment to catch his breath was not on her agenda, however. Natasha arched her back and pressed into him, taking his entire length in one fluid motion. She groaned and rotated her hips grinding her ass in his hands and his hard cock inside her.

They pressed into each other, hands searching and claiming. It was as if they were trying to become one entity, fused together in the blazing heat of their passion.

Steve moved first, pulling out almost all the way and ever so slowly sinking back into her. Nat leaned forward over the counter, rising on tip toes to take him more fully into herself.

"Oh, yes," she moaned as he sank almost lazily back to her.

Steve traced the delicate curves of her spine causing the pleasure to heighten in a whole new way. When he reached the base of her skull, and began tenderly massaging the muscles there, she jerked uncontrollably against him, her climax inevitable.

"Steve, you're amazing," she breathed.

Speeding up, he reached down and found her clit, flicking it gently in time to his thrusts. That was it, he shoved her right off the cliff into a blazing orgasm that shook her to her core and milked the climax from him as well.

Steve thrust into her twice more, riding out the waves of their simultaneous release.

They stood, pressed together, a while longer. Eventually Steve straightened and looked Nat in the eye, "so what did you want to tell me?"

"That may have been it," she laughed and began collecting items of clothing from the surrounding surfaces. She tossed his jeans at him and said, "I think we should move in together."

He stared at her coldly a moment. "Don't tease me Natasha Romanoff," he said without humor in his eyes.

"Would I joke about this?" She feigned innocence; she already _had_ joked about this.

A single eyebrow reaching towards the sky was her only answer.

"Fine," she said, adopting a serious façade her mentors at the Red Room would have punished her for, "Mr Stark phoned, the Tower is ready Captain Rogers," and she bowed, fighting giggles all the while.

A fissure of laughter and boyish excitement cracked the captain's stern face, and as serious as he could, naked and just fucked, he struck a heroic pose and said, "Avengers, Assemble."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally loved writing this part and it has begun to lead itself now. I'm going to follow it and see where these two go. I have several ideas for more encounters BTW. :D  
> Comments are amazing.


	3. Movie Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Natasha move into the Avengers Tower, and have movie night... and more.

Moving into the newly competed Avengers Tower was really quite easy when all you owned was a suitcase worth of clothing, a single set of black and red bedsheets, and a few dozen assassin grade weapons.

Within the hour Natasha had completely organized, and reorganized, her new accommodations in Stark’s sky scraper sized ‘secret’ base standing, for the whole world to see, in the middle of New York City. Subtle, as usual, Iron Man, but luxurious and packed with all the comforts none the less.

Her unpacking finished and not much else to occupy her time with at the moment, Natasha wandered aimlessly down the hall. She paused briefly as Clint’s door, leaning against the frame to see what her best friend was up to.

“Nat. Is there a reason you’re creeping at my door?” he asked from his spot on the bed, lounging, one arm thrown over his eyes.

“Just testing you,” she answered, a smile in her voice. Even mostly deaf in both ears, Barton could sense when she was near. They had worked side by side long enough to attune themselves to each other.

“Yeah, keep walking,” he said lightly, kicking the door closed with his booted foot.

She smirked and moved down the hall towards the lounge. She waved to Bruce who was working with Tony in the lab on their latest science project; something Tony was calling Iron Legion. Bruce didn’t seem interested in the project itself, but rather the science of it all.

She moved further down the hall, to the kitchen, where the smell of popcorn in the microwave greeted her.

 _That’s right_ , it was their first official movie night in the Avengers Tower. The idea had originally been a way to catch Cap up on everything in the cinematic universe that he’d missed, including who really framed Roger Rabbit and the truth about Luke Skywalker’s mysterious father.

A consensus had yet to be reached for this evening but among the list were _The Boondock Saints_ ; Clint’s choice, _Total Recall_ which Stark had suggested, and Pepper’s favorite; _American Beauty_.

Natasha was saving her top choice for the perfect occasion. She’d thought long and hard on that decision, and wasn’t yet ready to unleash the power of _High Tension_.

Steve stepped into the kitchen just as the microwave beeped. “Hi Natasha, settling in?” he asked, pulling a large bowl from the cabinet. “Have everything you need?”

“Yeah, for the most part,” she smiled, the tiniest bit of suggestion in her tone.

Steve dumped the popcorn into the bowl, she plucked a single kernel from the pile and popped it into her mouth, softly licking the butter flavor from her finger tip.

“So what’s the final decision on tonight’s ‘educational feature’?” Stark asked shoving his hand between them and into the popcorn. Either he was oblivious to the sexual tension between them or he simply didn’t care.

Steve cleared his throat, “Uh, it’s a science fiction, action movie. Darcy recommended it, she said it was _really good_ ,” he said, attempting the excited inflection of the pop culture savvy intern.

“Let’s get this show on the road,” Hill said, plopping down on the couch between Bruce and Clint, who had wandered in a moment before.

“What’s the hold up in there?” Hawkeye shouted over his shoulder.

Steve sprinkled salt on the popcorn while Tony bolted into the lounge, jumping over the couch and snagging the last seat on the end next to Pepper, pecking her on the cheek with a kiss.

“Don’t let your panties get in a bunch, Barton,” Nat joked, grabbing a bottled water from the fridge and casting a quick smile at Steve.

The only remaining seats were the plush recliner chairs on either side of the long sofa. They were positioned to allow for a great vantage point of the big screen television disguised as a wall and, Cap discovered, a great view of each other. He lounged back into the cushions and took a moment to appreciate the view as Natasha parked herself directly across from him, the coffee table, and the rest of the Avengers between them.

As it turned out, it _was_ a really good movie, and Cap could now understand Darcy’s reaction; not only was it about people who could move objects with their minds, draw the future, and alter people’s thoughts at will, but the main character had a certain… familiarity about him.

Though Cap did find it a bit difficult to focus on the plot when he kept catching Nat’s eyes on him. After the fourth subtle smile and second seductive wink, Steve had to place a throw pillow rather strategically in his lap.

How could she affect him so easily, from such a distance, with the entire team between them? A single look and his heart was drumming in his chest, his blood pumping like thunder through his veins.

By the beginning of the movie’s epic climax, Steve was dizzy with desire for her; barely able to keep his eyes on the screen, or his thoughts in check. He was quite frustrated when she silently left the room as the first line of credits began to roll without even a backwards glance. The others picked up various topics of conversation; holes in the story, what next week’s selection should be, whether Darcy should be trusted with suggestions at all.

Steve remained in his seat as the team dispersed to their individual areas of the tower. Tony and Pepper headed to their apartment in the penthouse, while Maria, Clint, and Bruce continued to debate the accuracies and inaccuracies within the plot line over drinks at the bar in the next room.

Soon Steve was the only one left sitting in the lounge, alone and itching to get his hands on a certain Russian spy. He stewed in his irritation a while longer, finally he sighed and rose, “JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain?” JARVIS asked, prompt as usual.

“Shut it down for the night, please.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you this evening, Captain?” the computer asked.

“No. Thank you, JARVIS.” Steve scooped up the empty popcorn bowl and dropped it off in the kitchen on his way down the hall. He strode right past the door to his room; there was no way he’d be able to sleep, despite the fact that it was nearly midnight. The training room was three floors down, he skipped the elevator and took the stairs.

The hall was dark but there was a single light coming from inside the adjacent locker room. A gut feeling told him exactly who was training this late at night.

Steve looked around the corner into the long narrow room. There were lockers all along one wall, sinks and showers along the opposite wall. There she was, standing at the farthest sink, peeling off layers of spandex, dripping with sweat. Every cell in his body surged with the desire to go to her, touch her perfectly scarred body, to lick the salt from her skin.

She knew he was there, she could sense him staring, every nerve tingling with the same electricity she had felt throughout the entire movie. It had been like a current, connecting them from across the room, drawing them together like gravity. Natasha decided to tease him a moment longer before turning to look at him; she angled away slightly and arched, stretching her arms above her head. Only when she heard his breath catch did she look over her shoulder at him, smirking.

He was the embodiment of all her most secret fantasies; his hair mussed as though he’d been tugging at it restlessly, his lips parted, breathing heavy, pouring sexuality from his entire being. He was staring; silently worshipping her as she longed to worship him.

Steve racked his brain, trying to come up with something, anything, to say to her. He wanted to tell her how instantly she affected him. He wanted to ask her if he affected her the same way. He wanted to tell her about his every thought, his every dream, and to hear hers. He wanted to talk with her for hours, naked and sated from their shared passion. He wanted to lounge in the sunlight with her. He wanted to take her dancing, even though he still hadn’t learned how. His mind was filled with words that seemed to clog and knot together on their way to his mouth.

Natasha stared back at him, patiently waiting for him to decide. She cocked a single finely shaped eyebrow at him, placed a hand on her hip and leaned against the sink.

Finally, he could bear it no longer. Words seemed futile, he threw them all from his head and went to her, eating up the distance between them in three long strides. They crashed together like waves on the shore, lips connecting, hands grasping. She jumped and wrapped her legs around his waist, and he turned, sitting her on the edge of the sink.

They consumed one another, clearly he _did_ have the same effect on her as she had on him. Her skin was hot to the touch and he suspected it wasn’t from her workout.

She pulled his lower lip between her teeth and nipped gently, tearing a groan from him. He gripped her waist with shaking hands, the adrenaline coursing through his veins, his head swimming.

Steve pulled away, gasping for air, and looked into her heavy lidded eyes, “what are you doing to me?”

“Exactly what you’re doing to me, I suspect,” she replied.

He pressed his forehead against hers and breathed in the heady scent of her, “I want every part of you.”

She placed her palms on his chest and gently pushed him back so she could stand from the sink. Nat took Steve by the hand and began to lead him out of the locker room. “Not here,” she said.

He followed her to the elevator, too drunk on Natasha to think for himself. She pushed the button for the dormitory floor above and shoved him into the corner, pressing herself into him, finding his lips once more. Steve’s hands roamed her body, grazing her breasts through the sports bra she still wore. He felt her nipples tighten under his touch.

The ride was short, too short for either of them. They separated reluctantly and walked down the hall to his room, which was closer to the elevator than hers was. He opened the door and led her into the room, a single lamp lighting their way. Clearly he had not had as much success at organizing as she. A suitcase lay open and half filled with clothing at the foot of the bed, scraps of paper were strewn across the desk and littered the floor. His leather jacket was thrown over the back of the chair.

He looked around sheepishly, “sorry about the mess. I had a little trouble…”

“Finding the floor?” she provided.

“Focusing,” he finished.

“Something distracting you, Rogers?”

“More like… someone,” he said, tilting his head at her, as if it should have been obvious.

“Who? Me?” she asked, surprised.

“Natasha, your room isn’t that far away from mine,” he said, “The only thing I knew I wanted in this room, for sure, was you.”

She smiled, a slow, sweet, smile that betrayed her inner most thoughts. Steve could read it plain on her face; she was lost down the same road as he, trying to find a safe balance between teammate and lover, while keeping the secret from the team. Only Sam knew of their interactions thus far, and had agreed to keep it to himself for the time being. It seemed to be an unspoken agreement from the beginning: this was not information to spread to the others, at least not until they themselves figured out exactly what _this_ was.

But none of that mattered now, not while they were here, together and alone. He leaned down slowly, pressing his lips against hers once more. Her nimble fingers found the hem of his t-shirt, grazing his abdomen as she lifted it. Steve let go of her and lifted his arms, freeing himself from the shirt. They moved slowly, patient and exploring for the first time. Steve gently caressed Natasha’s face, trailing his fingers down her cheek, to her throat, and to her shoulder. She reached up and did the same, her fingers tickled by the stubble along his jawline. All the while they stared into each other’s eyes, communicating all the things they couldn’t find the words for; the longing, the magnetic pull between them, their fears for, and of, the future.

She stretched up on tip toes and wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, guiding him down to her again. He followed her lead as trustingly as he always had, giving them both what they needed.

He kissed her like she was the love of his life, like she would disappear in an instant. He knew in his heart that she would be there forever, if only he could someday manage to find the words to ask her to stay.

_Someday._

For now, this was enough. Steve scooped her up, one arm below her knees, the other around her back, and carried her to the bed. He laid her down gently and stood, looking down at her, so soft and beautiful, something close to love in her eyes.

He unbuckled his belt and pulled it from the loops, dropping it on the floor by his feet. She sat up and leaned over to unbutton his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down his muscular thighs, his throbbing erection bouncing free. He kicked them off and climbed onto the bed. Natasha lay back and parted her legs, cradling his body into hers. He rained kisses down on her skin, beginning at her collar bone, working his way down. He unhooked her bra and soothed the red marks where the material had dug into her with his tongue. She gasped and arched off the bed, her fingers in his hair. Steve tasted her skin, salty and hot, he pulled one tight nipple into his mouth, sucking softly until it hardened between his lips.

He continued down her sternum, dipping his tongue into her navel, and stopped at the scar that started this whole mess. Steve looked up at her and lovingly kissed it, knowing now that it had been his brainwashed best friend who’d given her the mark long before he’d been found in that ice.

She sighed contentedly, and rolled her head back against his pillow, the fresh clean scent of him surrounding her. At long last he kissed his way to her hip, pulling her boy shorts down her long legs. She lifted off the bed to help him and Steve cupped her firm ass with both hands.

Steve kneeled between her thighs, reveling in the sight that was Natasha Romanoff spread, wanting, and as desperate for him as he was for her.

“Oh, Natasha, you are glorious,” he breathed, coming over her once more, pressing her into the mattress.

“And you’re adorable, Rogers,” she replied, meeting him, capturing his mouth in a searing kiss, her patience waning.

Natasha wrapped her legs around his hips, bringing him to her entrance, and he willingly followed, his hardened length sliding through her wetness, filling her so completely.

He fit inside her so perfectly, like no lover she’d ever had before. They matched, like puzzle pieces, and if she wasn’t so lost in her need for him, that realization may have scared her to her core. Drunk on his touch as she was, it only made the sensation more.

Steve thrust into her slowly, teasingly, languidly, taking his time, exploring her as he had not yet had the chance. Their two previous encounters had been so much about the physical. This time, he could sense their connection mentally, emotionally, down to his very soul.

They moved together as they always had, in perfect unison, meeting each other in the middle, pulling apart, and coming together again. Their passion rose slowly, each time he filled her, the heat kindled a little hotter, working their way to the blazing inferno he’d come to expect from his time with the Black Widow.

She gasped his name, “Steve,” ecstasy filled her voice, making it gravelly and sending him higher still.

Her climax came upon her slowly, rising like the tide, tingling from her toes up her spine and spreading through each inch of her body.

He sank into her twice more, feeling her clench around him, her eyes squeezed shut from pleasure. It rippled through her and into him, sending him over the edge behind her. They moaned together, bathing in the sensations of their lovemaking.

He settled into the crook of her shoulder, finally relaxed and exhausted. They lay together a long time, simply holding one another, breathing in each other’s air.

Natasha stroked her fingers through his hair, soothingly. She was happy, genuinely happy, and now, as the glow of their desire began to ebb, the thought terrified her.

 _Love is for children_. Her own harsh words to Loki forcing their way into her mind, demanding to be seen, like a flashing neon sign. Her heart began to race, what was happening? What had she gotten herself into? Somehow Steve had managed to punch his way through every protective barrier she had built up around her heart. He worked his way into every part of her, body, mind, and soul. Anxiety raced through her veins, she had to get away. She needed distance from him, space to clear her mind and think.

He began to snore softly, passed out from the day’s events. Discretely and gently as she could, Nat untangled herself from him. Sliding from the bed, she indulged in one last look at his perfect face, soft inside the cloud of sleep. Against her better judgment she leaned down and kissed him on the brow. He stirred only slightly, whispering her name, and her cold heart swelled once more.

 _What is happening to me?_ She scooped up her underwear, pulling them on, and left quietly, heading towards the roof, stopping in her room long enough to pull on sweats. She needed the brisk cold air that the city of New York’s skyline could provide. She needed to think.

 

Steve awoke just as dawn was breaking over the horizon. His room the soft grey of early morning. She was gone. The cold sheets told him she’d left hours ago. Though his brain said it was for the best, to prevent being caught, his heart sank low in his chest. Perhaps someday things would be less complicated and he would wake with Natasha in his arms.

Someday, when he got the courage to put into words what he was slowly beginning to understand in his soul. He was falling head first in love with her.

He dropped his head back on the pillow, his face in his hands, “what have you gotten yourself into this time, Rogers?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movie they watched was Push, from 2009, and yes I intentionally chose one that starred Chris Evans. Bonus points if you figure it out by my vague descriptions of plot and reference to the character 'familiarity'. I wanted to add that easter egg without being too blatantly obvious.
> 
> Thanks for reading, comments are, as always, amazing.


	4. Trusted Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha seeks out Clint's advice on everything going on between her and Steve. Excessive angst in this chapter. More sexy times to come in the next installment.

Her lungs burned. Her muscles were on fire. Sweat ran in rivers down her body. She pushed further. Pushed her body to its breaking point, and pushed any thought other than the training simulation as far away as she possibly could. Unfortunately, the questions and the fear were much more stubborn than she, forcing themselves into the forefront her of mind, demanding attention. Demanding to be heard; to be examined and sorted. They refused to let her rest.

What was she doing? What had she gotten herself into? Where did she go from here? Somehow Steve Rogers had weaseled his way straight into every part of her. It began simply enough; friendship and trust. They were vital components of becoming a functional team; of staying alive during a mission. You couldn’t rely on someone if you didn’t trust them, if they didn’t trust you. She did, she trusted him implicitly, and he trusted her, she knew it deep in her bones, but that didn’t mean she trusted him, or anyone, with her most fragile part; her heart.

Natasha had spent decades building up protective barriers around her heart. Alone and apart: it was the safest place to be. No one could hurt you if you didn’t let them in. The second you give yourself to another that completely was the second you lost yourself. Your heart no longer your own to control, to protect. It was the one kind of trust she’d never been able to allow herself to give to another.

She punched her frustration out on the dummy. Raining down deadly accurate blows, each hit aiming towards her own insecurities, the fears that had plagued her every thought for days. Every moment since she snuck out of his bed had been like a tornado of emotion that Natasha was entirely unprepared, and ill-equipped to deal with.

She had to admit, she was avoiding him. Natasha had no idea how to face him, what to say. She was terrified of what he might say to her. Deep down, if she could only face the truth, she knew exactly what he would say, if she gave him the chance, which was the exact reason she was sneaking around the training room at this insanely early hour. She’d been working at least two hours already and the sun was just beginning to breach the horizon, turning the sky a soft pink, which only irritated her even further for some insane reason. Every nerve grated down to nothing, as if her blood was made of sandpaper.

Anxiety bubbled up like tar in her throat. Thick and choking; she couldn’t breathe. Ripping her training gloves from her hands she wiped the sweat from her brow, “JARVIS, cut the program, I’m done for now.”

“Very good, Ms. Romanoff. Can I do anything else for you?” sometimes Natasha thought the computer was a bit too sentient, as if he could tell there was a million different thoughts slamming through her brain, like razor blades in a blender set to purée.

“Yes, where’s Hawkeye?” she could use a familiar voice, maybe he could give her some much needed advice. Perhaps she could ask for his help without telling him anything about what was going on inside her head, if she was evasive enough, and maybe just a little bit lucky. Clint had been her most trusted friend ever since he’d brought her back from the brink of destruction under the KGB’s rule. Sometimes it felt as if they shared a brain, he could read her so easily.

Who was she kidding? He’d know instantly what was in her head, in her heart. He might know already. She’d been dodging almost every one of the other Avengers for days; afraid they would smell it on her, as if she were leaking it like toxic waste. As for Clint, it seemed more like he was waiting, patiently expecting her to come to her senses sooner or later, and seek out his opinion. Well he was about to get his wish.

“Agent Barton is in the kitchen,” answered JARVIS.

“Thank you,” she began to leave, but hesitated a moment, “is there anybody with him?” she asked.

“No, ma’am, the others have yet to begin their day.”

Breathing a quick sigh of relief and then taking a deep breath for courage, Natasha left the room, knowing JARVIS would see her nod of thanks.

She took the stairs, needing the three flights to chastise herself a moment. She could face the worst evils of this world, battle the invading army of an alien planet, commanded by a demigod, not to mention everything she had endured at the Red Room, but this one man struck such panic in her soul. The Black Widow had not faced such fear in… she couldn’t remember how long. Even as child not much had frightened her. The other girls had been afraid of their tutors, the dark, the future, but Natasha had faced it all with bravery and determination, finding strength in the power of her own will.

Perhaps that was part of the problem; it was like she was beyond her own free will. As if Rogers had somehow snuck inside her head and began messing with her mind.

_No._ No, Steve was too honorable, too kind, too… _good_ to knowingly change her, to force her to be anything other than herself. This was all her own doing.

She reached the dormitory floor and opened the door, moving silently through the hall. She could sense Clint in the kitchen, making coffee and fixing his usual breakfast of oatmeal and a slice of fruit. Smelled like cinnamon oatmeal this morning.

She stopped just outside the doorway to make sure he was, indeed, alone. Hawkeye faced away from her, stirring oats into boiling water, stirring butter in. “Morning, Nat, finally coming out of hiding?” he asked.

“Who said I was hiding?” she asked, a hint of defensiveness in her voice, that she tried to cover with sarcasm.

Clint turned to look at her, the look on his face plainly screaming, _you_.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked.

Nat sighed and threw herself into a chair at one end of the huge kitchen table. He came to sit next to her, placing his breakfast on the table. Patient and observant as ever, he waited. He’d learned long ago not to poke the bear, or the spider, as it were.

“No…. Ugh, yes? I don’t know. I’m not even sure how to put it into words…” she rambled.

“Well, something is obviously bothering you. I haven’t seen you this incoherent since…. Actually I’ve never seen you this incoherent,” he said, smirking at her through a mouthful of apple.

“I just, I don’t know, this is so messed up. I’m not even sure how I got here, let alone where I’m supposed to go from here,” she struggled, slamming her head down on the table in irritation.

He sat chewing and staring at her a moment. He looked at her, really looked, sometimes she thought he actually had super human vision; the ability to look inside her head. “Give me a minute to finish this,” he gestured to the bowl in front of him, “and we’ll figure it out together,” he smiled reassuringly.

They sat in silence while he finished his breakfast, Nat stewing in her misery, Clint taking in every bit of information he could from her. She was anxious, frustrated, gnawing on the inside of her cheek, and every now and then glaring irately at his chest, where they both knew he kept his wedding band hung on a simple chain around his neck.

He chewed a little slower, remembering the conversation well.

_”It’s not safe to wear it, Nat. If someone saw, if they figured out about Laura… I can’t risk that. It’s better to just leave it behind, not to mention she’d be pissed if I lost it on some random mission.”_

_“I have a better idea, Barton,” and she had quickly scooped a small pouch from under her bed, rustling through pockets until she pulled out a simple gold chain. A chain he recognized. It had been the only piece of jewelry Nat had had with her when he found her, back when she was just a target. Before they had gotten to know one another, before she became his closest friend, before he’d even met Laura._

_She handed him the chain and said, “You can wear it in secret, keep her close to your heart.”_

That’s when he knew how to help her. Barton gulped the last bite of his oatmeal and practically threw the bowl into the sink.

“Let’s go,” he said, grabbing her hand and dragging her from the kitchen, just in time; she could hear a door opening down the hall. Sounds like Bruce and the others were rising finally.

He led her up to the roof, the roof that had been her sanctuary more than once since that night of passionate love making in Steve’s room. Despite herself Nat could feel the heat rising in her face at the memory of his touch, his mouth on her skin, his hands in her hair. She walked to the western edge, gripping the cold railing with both hands, trying to calm the churning sea inside her. 

Clint came to stand beside her, leaning back against the railing, facing east, gazing at the rising sun, the sky a brightening blue. 

“I ever tell you about how Laura and I got engaged?” he began. Nat shook her head slightly, staring off solemnly at the buildings of early morning New York. “I had the ring all picked out. I was so sure when I bought the stupid thing, cocky even, and as soon as I saw her… suddenly, I was terrified. I spent two days with that diamond burning a hole in my damn pocket, trying to figure out what to say; how to say it.”

Nat turned and looked at him then, she’d never heard this story before. Obviously he figured it out, they’d been married almost two decades now with two beautiful kids. It was clear they truly loved one another, why would he have been so nervous?

“I was starting to think it would never leave my pocket. Finally, on the third night, Laura interrupted some crappy story I was trying to tell her, I can’t even remember what it was now. She looked me straight in the eye and said, ‘are you going to ask me to marry you, or not?’” he laughed, his eyes glazed over with the memory of it all. “I was so shocked; I couldn’t believe she’d known. I guess I wasn’t as sneaky as I thought.” Clint looked at Nat then, “In the end there was no reason for me to be scared at all, I pulled out the box, dropped to one knee, and asked her.”

Natasha nodded, smiling at their happiness.

“My point, is that when you feel it in your heart, which _you_ clearly do, you need to just take the leap of faith. It’s obvious he’s in love with you, Nat,” he said.

Her mouth dropped open, denial rising in her throat.

Clint cut her off, “Everybody can see how Cap feels about you, and _I_ can see that you feel the same about him. He’s a good man. You trust him, don’t you?”

Nodding again, her face twisted in confusion, she said, “with my life.”

“But not your heart,” it wasn’t a question. “I think that’s a mistake. Steve isn’t the kind of guy to take something so precious and be careless with it.”

“You know me, Clint, trust doesn’t come easily to me. This… this is… I don’t know if this is something I can leave to trust, even with Steve.”

“Well I think that if that’s your decision that it’s the biggest mistake you will ever make in your life,” he said, staring her in the eyes. “Think about it, make the right choice,” he said, hugging her, then he left her alone on the roof.

“Barton!” she called after him. He stopped at the door and turned to look at her. “Thank you.”

“Any time, Romanoff,” he smiled and went inside, leaving her alone with the morning sky and a million questions still in her mind, but a little more clarity than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter came flying out of my fingers in a few hours.  
> Thanks for reading, comments are amazing!


	5. Realizations and Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Natasha finally admit to themselves and each other their true feelings.

She was avoiding him, there was no doubt in his mind. She was avoiding him like he was the plague. It was obvious, he’d barely seen her in days, not since he’d fallen asleep in her arms, resting his head on her shoulder, her fingers in his hair.

He couldn’t figure it out, what happened? Had he done something wrong? Had he hurt her? Had he pushed too far, too soon? Or was it possible; she was just as terrified as he?

When he awoke that first morning he was sad to find her long gone. Logically it had made sense, it would do no one any good to find Romanoff sneaking out of his room, tussled and barely dressed, in the early morning hours. On their first night in the Tower no less. He could practically hear Tony’s sarcastic tone in his mind, _Couldn’t even wait a day, could you? Then again, I guess you waited ninety years, huh?_

Shoving thoughts of Stark’s merciless teasing from his mind, Steve rose from the bed and headed to his bathroom. Perhaps a scorching shower would help. Unfortunately, the steaming water did nothing but remind him of the heat of Natasha’s skin the night before. Unbidden, his hands wandered over his wet body, seeking the pleasure he found only in her touch. Frustration running high, he shut off the water, giving up on finding any kind of relief, or release, without her.

He spent the remainder of that first day hiding out in his room, racking his brain with what to say to her. Over and over he played out different versions of the conversation in his mind. He was sure that if he could just find the right words he would also find the courage to say them aloud to her.

Steve paced up and down his room, tugging mindlessly on his hair. Several times he found himself at his desk, pencil in hand, lines and shadows placing themselves on the page. There she was, coming to life before him.

He crumpled the page in his fist, irritation getting the better of him. He had to get out. Steve changed into running clothes and headed out of the tower as the sun began to set, maybe a little distance from the tower and some physical exertion would help: every time he glanced at his bed all he could see was her.

The next few days went much the same, hair-tugging irritation, sketches that just did not do her justice, and subtly looking for her throughout the tower, but she was nowhere to be found. Doing his best to distract himself, he picked up idle conversations with Darcy when she stopped by, he visited Bruce in the lab, he even went running with Sam, if you could even call it running.

He was going mad, how much more of this uncertainty could he take before insanity took over? More than a week had passed with no sign of her. Early one morning, he was heading to the roof for some fresh air, when he bumped into Barton.

“Morning,” he said, avoiding eye contact.

“Hey,” Barton tapped him on the shoulder.

Steve stopped, turning back to Clint.

“She’s having trouble figuring it out,” he said, shocking Steve, “She might not understand it yet, but I know Nat better than she knows herself.”

Steve looked away, every feeling he’d been silently avoiding rising like a tsunami within him. He felt like he was drowning, pulled out to sea by a rip tide named Natasha.

“Cap, she loves you, even if she can’t see it yet, or doesn’t want to see it.”

 _Damn. Is it that obvious?_ Steve wondered who else had figured it out. Hopefully it was just the Hawkeye being as observant as always. “I, uh, I’m not sure what to say…”

“It’s not me you have to say it to, Rogers,” Clint told him, sincerity in his voice. “It’s her,” giving him a knowing look he continued down the stairs. He knew. He knew Natasha, he apparently knew Steve. The anxiety that had been bubbling up in him with rising ferocity since that first night was suddenly gone. Clint’s words had broken through the frozen layers of uncertainty. He was in love with Natasha. Undeniably, and irrevocably in love with her. Deep in his core he knew: she loved him, too.

Natasha was denying it, refusing to admit the truth even to herself, but Barton had seen right through her, through both of them, into their hearts, and he not only approved, but he was telling Steve to go for it.

With Hawkeye’s endorsement, shoving the nervousness away, Steve opened the door and stepped out onto the roof. Natasha was standing across from him, leaning over the railing, staring at the skyline, the sun shining on her back.

She was as beautiful as ever, her auburn hair gleaming in the light of dawn. He simply looked at her a moment, she was dressed as she had been the last time he’d sought her out; spandex clinging close to her body, igniting the fire in his blood. She’d been training this morning, for hours by the look of it. She sighed, deep and heavy, dropping her head onto her arms, crossed on the railing. She was shaking her head. He continued staring at her, wondering if she was denying to herself precisely what he’d been battling with all week, the raging conflict of emotions.

Natasha’s shoulders began to tremble, heaving slowly as she tried to breathe through the sudden realization crashing through her like a speeding train.

She loved him.

Somehow, without her permission, her heart had given itself completely to another, to Steve. It began to pound inside her chest, slamming against her ribcage, pushing the blood and dopamine through her system. She was dizzy with the instantaneous onslaught of need for him. She had to go to him, she needed to see him, to hear his voice. She needed to tell him what she’d discovered, and apologize for the hurt and confusion she’d put them both through. That is, if he was still willing to hear her out.

Of course he would listen to her. Rogers was not the vindictive type. He would listen to her and respect her words, but would he return them? She begged silently a moment with the universe and the god she’d never believed in that he was as desperately in love with her as she was with him. She stood tall, closed her eyes and breathed deep. Once, twice, three times.

She steeled herself for the most terrifying mission she’d ever taken on; she was going to tell Steve how in love with him she was.

She turned to go inside, to find him, to tell him everything, and there he was. The sun shone strong behind him, creating a halo of light around his perfect face. His eyes bore into her, he was staring, gazing with such emotion on his face, she could already tell it was true: he loved her also.

They simply looked at one another, as they had in the locker room more than a week ago, silently communicating. This time they could hear each other, knowing exactly what the other was trying to say. This time she was the one who threw all thought from her mind and went to him. He couldn’t wait, moving effortlessly for the first time since she’d left his bed They flew together like stars colliding. The gravity of their love forcing them towards one another.

She jumped without thinking, and he caught her as he always had, as he always would. Natasha wrapped herself around him, arms, and legs, and fingers. He held her as though she weighed nothing at all. They kissed. The most perfect kiss either had ever experienced. It was passionate, it was soft, it was scorching, and it said everything in the world. Their lips and hearts spoke without saying a single word.

Steve cupped her cheek with such tenderness, supporting her body with his left arm, “Natasha, you are like no one I have ever known. Nothing I’ve ever seen. You surprise me at every turn. You’re the reason I had to pay Fury ten dollars,” he smirked at the memory. “I love you, I think I always have.”

His heart lifted at the smile that lit her face, rising from the pit in his stomach where it had lived for days; she glowed with the emotion, blue eyes sparkling, “I love you, too, Rogers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At least one more chapter to come. Events that occur shortly after this chapter. Thank you for reading, comments are amazing.


	6. Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter in this fic, Steve and Natasha finally celebrate their love for each other. A classic (and smutty) happy ending to the story. Enjoy.

Natasha pressed her forehead against his, closing her eyes, and for the first time allowed herself to imagine a future with him, _with anyone_ , if she was being honest with herself. They’d be an unstoppable team, trust and communication flowing inherently between them. They would work in complete synchronization, anticipating the other’s needs before the thought even occurred to them.

Steve gently placed her feet firmly back on the rooftop but refused to release his grip on her. As she stood, held in his arms, his fingers gently stroking along her spine, she knew that synchronicity would bleed over into their personal relationship. He stared into her eyes with all the love and desire they’d both been battling for weeks.

She wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, stretching up on her toes, and pulled his lips down to meet hers.

Steve gripped Natasha, his hands on her back, bringing her body flush against his. She could feel the hot length of his arousal pressing into her stomach. He explored her mouth with his, while his strong hands roamed her back. He tenderly stroked her shoulders, caressing her bare arms, and trailed fire down her spine, he bent slightly and cupped her ass with both hands.

Natasha gasped, breaking free of his dangerously enticing lips. She choked in a breath of crisp New York air, the realization of their location dawning on them both.

“Come with me,” he told her, releasing her backside and taking her by the hand. Steve led her from the roof, sneaking quietly down the stairwell to the dormitory floor. He stopped at the door, listening for the other Avengers, before stepping into the hallway, pulling her behind him. They walked quickly to his room, bursting through the door and colliding together once again, kissing one another with a passion that drove away the chill of the outside breeze and kindled a fire in the pit of her stomach.

He consumed her in every way. Fumbling for skin to skin contact, Natasha tore at her clothes, ripping seams in her desperation to be rid of them. He was just as starved for her touch as she was for his, pulling his own shirt over his head. Finally, free of the majority of their clothing, they stood, face to face staring into each other’s eyes.

Natasha bit down on her lower lip, fire in her eyes. Steve licked his and blinked, dazzled by her beauty and sheer raw sexuality. It amazed him, the openness, and boldness, of sex in this time. There she stood, blatantly calling to him, naked but for her panties. Before he’d been frozen in the ice, she would have been called a harlot, scandalized for her honest enjoyment of her sexuality. Steve had often wondered about how well he would fit into modern society, he had worried he would be considered old fashioned, prudish even, which of course Tony had no qualms about professing to any who would listen. Suddenly, however, as Steve stood there, staring appreciatively at Natasha’s curvaceous form, he knew, he was quite enjoying the freedom of this more accepting century.

He cocked a single brow at her and stepped forward slowly, wrapping his fingers around her slender waist, nearly spanning the distance with his large hands.

“I want you so badly,” he whispered, his breath fanning over her cheeks, “it feels like I’m going to explode.”

“Not just yes, Captain,” Natasha whispered back as she trickled her fingers down his chest and across his abdomen. She caught the top of his boxers, tugging the fabric away from his heated skin, and slid one hand inside, firmly gripping his hardened length. Steve groaned, the pent up frustration of the last week rushing out of him at that single touch.

Natasha knelt before him, pulling his underwear down over his fine ass and muscular legs. She placed a loving kiss just below his navel as she wrapped both hands snuggly around his erection. Steve involuntarily thrust into her hands, his knees trembled, and his blood thundered through his veins.

His reaction brought a smile to Nat’s face and kindled the fire burning in her core. Driven on by Steve’s obvious enjoyment, she poked her tongue out and licked the tip of his cock. Steve’s eyes rolled back in his head, she gloated in her ability to draw such a reaction from him at the simplest of touches. Natasha teased him a moment longer, grasping him with feather light fingers, just barely connecting plump lips to velvety flesh.

Steve groaned, louder this time, his frustration riding high. “Nat…” he begged.

Finally, she pulled him fully into her mouth, touching her nose to his pelvis. Steve moaned in satisfaction, and she hummed, shooting vibrations through his entire body.

Natasha pleasured him with her mouth, her skilled fingers grazing his ass and upper thighs. Steve gripped her hair in one hand, holding her close, unwilling to let go. It was unlike anything he’d experienced before.

One or two of the _friendly_ chorus girls had attempted such a feat during his time as the “Star Spangled Man with a Plan”. More often than not they choked on his size and gave up quickly. Nat was far more skilled and determined. She knew precisely how to fit his full length down her throat, sending shivers through his spine, causing his toes to curl into the carpet.

Based on the moans vibrating from her, Natasha was enjoying this nearly as much as Steve, which only made holding on that much more difficult. He lovingly took hold of her face and tugged her away from his member. She ran her tongue along the length of him as she pulled away, and smiled up at him.

Steve gently helped her to her feet. “God, I love you,” he moaned, laying passionate kisses across her cheeks, nose, and lips.

Suddenly, he scooped her up and carried her to the bed. “Steve!” she cried in surprise, wrapping her arms around his neck for support, and the sheer fact that she couldn’t keep her hands to herself any longer.

Staying away from him all week, every second of every day, had been exactly what she thought she needed. Looking back over the days now, it was more difficult, and painful, than admitting to herself the love she felt for him.

One day as he’d been walking down the hall towards her location in the kitchen she had turned and literally bolted in the opposite direction. There was a sharp pain that knifed through her chest. She’d assumed it was adrenaline and fear of the truth that she’d felt as she ran. Now Natasha understood the feeling for what it was: the physical reaction to the distance she put between herself and him. It was as though the simple touch of his skin gave her life, and being away from him ripped her to pieces.

Steve laid her gently on the bed and before he could move another inch she dragged him down to her with arms and legs, coiling around him like a python, refusing to allow him the chance to escape, as if he even wanted to be anywhere but with, and in, her.

Collapsing onto her, he moved easily between her thighs, cradled between her exquisite legs, his length brushing against her dripping core. Steve gazed into her eyes, warmed by the heat burning within them. It perfectly matched the fire blazing in his soul. The feeling was as nothing he’d ever known, she was his everything, he realized. Steve could no longer image his life without Natasha, she was ingrained, irrevocably, into every fiber of his being, and he marveled at that fact, allowing every bit of his love into that look as he slowly sank into her.

Natasha moaned, filled with a pleasure that was entirely foreign; the pleasure of being with the one person you loved more than any other in the entire universe. That single thrust, more a melting, was better, more intense, than every single sexual encounter she’d ever had combined.

Lifting her hips gently, she met his movements with each of her own. They came together, moved apart, and returned to each other; a dance that belonged hung in the heavens. Two great stars circling, pulled together by gravity, flung apart once more only to be driven back together harder than before.

Steve filled Natasha completely, her body stretching to accommodate him, hugging him in that most intimate of ways. They made love for what felt like forever and yet it was not long enough. They both knew there would eternally be a hunger for the other, a desire, a need, to be connected.

He thrust into her with a delicious delicacy, worshiping her body, her mind, her soul. He would never again be complete without her by his side, and he knew, deep within his heart, she breathed to be with him.

She wrapped herself around him completely, bringing him into herself, physically, mentally, and emotionally. For the first time in her life, Natalia Alianovna Romanova allowed a man into her heart as well as her body, and it was the most precious moment of her existence.

The love swelling through her heart tossed Nat right over the edge, her climax rolling through her like ripples in a pond. She moaned, overtaken by the pure sensation of it all, her heart thrumming, pushing her release powerfully through her veins.

Lost in the pure love clear on her face Steve followed her over the edge, consumed by the raw emotion flooding his every cell. They clung to each other, riding the waves of their shared passion. Steve slumped, sated and relaxed, on top of her. His weight was a pleasant sensation, not crushing, but comforting and connecting, stitching them together into a single entity.

Steve and Natasha lay together, basking in the glow of their lust and love, breathing in the scent of one another, merging their beings, brain waves harmonizing. Steve lost track of time, perhaps they slept a while, one clinging to the other. The sun shone through his window, comforting in its warmth, and illuminating thoughts that had been lost to him in the heat of their passion.

After a while, he finally gained the clarity and courage to ask what he’d been wondering for days. The single question had been nagging at his soul, grinding slowly away at his sanity like sandpaper on raw nerves, “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “Even Barton knew before me. I know he’s your closest friend and you’ve been partners for… huh, years… but…why....” He searched for the right words. He understood that Nat was careful and not very generous with her truths. He also knew if he could get the question right, she would give him the answers he sought.

She ducked her gaze, avoiding his searching look, and thought a moment. She allowed in all the emotions and doubts she’d been barricading herself from. Everything rushed in, crashing upon her, she nearly drowned in it all. Steve, human perfection that he was, sensed it, or saw it in her face, he softly stroked a single finger down her cheek. That one touch, that simple demonstration of his love and loyalty was enough, she understood in a flash.

Natasha met his eyes, bashfully, “Maybe I was scared… because you mean more to me than any other person. More than I ever could have imaged I could even feel,” she confessed. “You are everything I need, and everything I want, and I can’t fathom life without you.” As she spoke the truth of her words flooded her, spreading a warm glow through her being.

Steve smiled down at her with all the love he had felt for months, since long before he had had the courage to speak those words that started it all.

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter, (sorry guys) of this amazing fic. I have so much enjoyed writing it and I greatly appreciate all the wonderful feedback I have received for it. I plan on writing more fics in the future and I'm sure there will be more Romanorogers stories. Way too many feels about them to stop here. :D Thank you for reading <3 <3 <3
> 
> Comments are amazing!

**Author's Note:**

> I have ideas for another part of this and so many feels to go along with it. I'm also secretly Natasha Romanoff so..... Comments are amazing!


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